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The Crossroads of the Universe

The Crossroads of the Universe - 1

Dear Kay, Oh, sure, you’re up there in the crossroads of the universe, with every Sally, Sissy, and Sue who comes through New York City calling you up for a pint of coffee with ya. Well, Nashville is a crossroads, too, you know. Grant writers LOVE coming to Nashville–the place is just rotten with ’em. Those grant writers just can’t wait until it’s time for an Association of Grant Professionals throwdown–they...

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Cleanup on Aisle 2, a Trip, and Some Shoes

Cleanup on Aisle 2, a Trip, and Some Shoes - 1

Dear Kay, It’s 2:30 in the morning. Small Clif–poignant, brave, wildly barf covered–turned up at my bedside with trash can in hand to announce that he was having a bad night. I am so very awake. Never been so awake. Let’s just leave that vale of Clorox behind for the moment, shall we? We’re going on a little trip. Is that potpourri I smell? Like, six kinds of potpourri at the same time? Is that the sound of a...

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Grand Ole Hair

Grand Ole Hair - 1

Dear Ann, Honeeeeeeey, I’m home! I had a blast in Nashville, as I always do. Nashville is a wonderland. Then again, it doesn’t take all that much to make me happy. One thing I have been pondering about Nashville is: What’s up with the hair? Why is there so much GREAT HAIR in Nashville? I mean, look at Tammy Wynette: Girl had awesome hair. Dolly’s hair? Get OUT! Dolly’s hair mojo is so strong that some of...

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Yarn, Country Music, and Ditching Work

Yarn, Country Music, and Ditching Work - 1

Dear Kay, First things first, becuz the question was raised, and a yarn query trumps anything else as far as I’m concerned. The yarn shown in my last post is Koigu Painter’s Palette Merino, shade P704. It’s knitted on size 1 (2.25 mm) needles. It’s a supercloseup photo. Above is the same yarn photographed farther away. See how different it looks all knitted up? Murky. Not as pretty as in the skein. Ah, whatever. One...

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Stephanie Pearl-McPhee, Temporary Nashvillian

Stephanie Pearl-McPhee, Temporary Nashvillian - 1

Dear Kay, I tried, I really did. I managed to get a plate of fried okra within two feet of Stephanie Pearl-McPhee, but she wouldn’t bite. I know she was tempted–two more minutes, and she would have laid aside that avocado and gone for it. She’ll be back. I know, at this very minute, she’s dreaming of fried okra as she finds her way to Lexington, Kentucky. So, it really was a worlds-collide sort of day yesterday, just...

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The Operative Word Here Is Whoopie

The Operative Word Here Is Whoopie - 1

Dear Kay–dear, faraway Kay, Kay who can no longer rummage through my yarn looking for more Cotton Classic yarn, ya big MOOCH, You know that part of any Jacques Cousteau documentary where the divers surface after 12 hours under water, drag themselves back onto the rubber raft, and gasp, “Écoute, Jacques! Zere are amazink sings down zere”? That’s me flopping into the rubber raft. Our little book tour has revealed to me so...

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